


The Slow Way Up

by stammed_cleams



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Achilles Is My Real Dad, CW Self Harm, Coping Mechanisms, Daddy Issues, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, attempted canon accurate, background meg/hypnos, cw abuse, cw gore, found father, long fic, surface training, though its mostly just him thirsting after her lmao, training for the surface, training with achilles, various types of drama idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stammed_cleams/pseuds/stammed_cleams
Summary: Hearing that Zagreus plans to escape to the surface, Achilles starts him on a new and unusual training regimen with two simple rules: He can only make one escape attempt a day, and he can't die for a week. As Zagreus adjusts to this new schedule and style of fighting, he runs into some unexpected struggles, and gets to know the people in his house a bit better.
Relationships: Achilles & Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	1. The First Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone!!! so im not entirely sure if this one will get views because its so eclectic BUT thats what i said about 'and the city dreamt of me' and look how that turned out (please dont ream me on half abandoning this fic im sure ill update it someday). SO i such at tagging but basically this theme is achilles being a father to zag and hades being a trash man to zagreus, which imo is pretty canon accurate. a lot of drama, some edge, hope you enjoy this!!

‘I know what’s best for you’ was a phrase Zagreus heard nigh incessantly, a concept he met face to face with from everyone from his father, to Nyx, to the gods, to everyone in his house. It seemed, as the one bloody quarter-mortal, everyone was willing to boss him around without ever explaining their long and complicated motivations - But there was only one person Zagreus knew who actually seemed to follow through on his promises. Achilles. When he said ‘trust me’, Zagreus did so, and each time he was better for it, stronger, braver, smarter, better off in the long run. So when Achilles told him to think long and hard about leaving the house, he did. He weighed all the pros and cons, ruminating over it for hours and hours in his room, pacing back and forth and thinking.

In the end, he saw no other alternative. He could come up with no scenarios where his father would allow him to find his mother, or contact her for him - Not with how odd his behavior was around her in the past. Beyond that, Zagreus was sick to tears with this stupid house - He’d seen every corner of it and never seen anything else. He’d killed time fighting the wretches in Tartarus all his life, but at least if he started fighting his way to the top he might see Elysium. He had physical pain and his father’s wrath against him, yes, but there was also little to lose and everything to gain. Besides that, he  _ needed  _ to meet his mother. It was almost impossible to deal with the concept that she just left because she didn’t like him, that she didn’t mention him in the letter because she forgot about him - His father had said things to that extent, but he didn’t believe him. He had to see her and find some other reason. He had to know. 

So, with a look of newfound assurance in himself, Zagreus approached Achilles’ post. “Achilles, I’ve made my decision,” he said, “I have to get to the surface. I have to meet my mother. This is what I’m going to do, and I’m afraid that I’ll go on to do it whether I have your approval or no.”   


Achilles kept his emotions away from his face, but he looked focused, serious. Not laughing, at least, like his father often did. “I’m glad to hear you don’t need my approval, lad. But suffice to say, you have it. If you think this is what’s best for you, I will do all I can to aid you,” he said. “Tell me: When you reach the surface, do you intend to greet your mother and come back home, or are you going to stay?”   


“Sir, with all due respect - I can’t stay here any longer. I want to go out and see all that I can!” he responded sincerely. 

“I thought you may say something along those lines,” he answered, “Which is why we’re going to start a new branch of somewhat unorthodox training for just that.”   


Excitement hurried onto Zagreus’ face. “We are?!” he exclaimed, “Training for me to reach the surface?! Lord Achilles, thank you, I-I can’t thank you enough!”   


Achilles smiled - The smile of a warrior, as opposed to the wise old sage’s smile he so often flashed nowadays. “You’re very welcome lad, but I’m afraid this training isn’t to  _ reach  _ the surface. For that, you’ll have to rely on what I’ve already taught you - You know very well how to fight wretches of all kinds.  _ This  _ segment of your training will be how to survive on the surface.”

“Are there wretches on the surface, sir?”   


“Worse than wretches, lad. Mortals, so heavily possessed by Ares they can hardly remember their own names. As well as plague, cold, monstrous beasts, famine, infection - And you won’t be getting any second changes up there. Tell me - What’s the longest you’ve gone without dying since you turned ten?”

Zagreus thought back. He died just about every day nowadays, especially now that he was trying to get higher up instead of just fighting the wretches for entertainment purposes. But there were a few comfortable spans as a pre-teen he could loosely recall… “I think I survived for around a month at 13, sir…” Then, he laughed and said, “That’s not very long, is it?”   


“Not… particularly no. But, that’s why we’re training! Meet me in the training grounds in a ten minutes and we will begin our first lesson!”   


He grinned ear to ear. “Yes, sir!” he answered, and took off to the training grounds in a run that left skid marks on the floor. 

The training grounds, just outside the house, were thorough and well decked out - As far as fighting was concerned, Hades spared no expense on his son. He saw to it his boy wouldn’t be weak - For that reason it was packed with rows of infernal weapons, wooden dummies to fight of all shapes and sizes, targets, bags of sand, stone discs - All in an expansive field made of lifeless stone, the caves looming up overhead. It was lit by torchlight, and the rich red feeling of it made it feel like it was made for torture rather than for training. But despite its unappealing appearance, Zagreus had nothing but fond memories of it. Time in here meant time training with Achilles. He stretched his muscles, and prepared for whatever intricate, powerful secret moves he knew from on the surface. When Achilles came through the door, Zagreus popped right up out of his seat. Achilles had his cloak off, revealing the stonelike musculature of the now mild-mannered warrior underneath. Zagreus had only ever known him as stoic, cool, calculative - But when he fought here, his cloak thrown aside, the jabs of his spear impossibly precise, Zagreus could catch brief glimpses at the unhindered, juvenile emotion that killed a thousand men. 

Achilles, a vigor in his voice, pointed to the weapons rack and said, “Take your pick, lad! We’re going to spar - And I won’t be holding back this time!”   


“Yes, sir!” Zagreus hurried to the weapons rack and pulled out his own spear, twirling it dramatically before holding it ready across his middle. Achilles didn’t flaunt his skill - He didn’t have to. 

The battle kicked off rapidly, with Zagreus immediately on the defensive. He ducked and weaved after strikes impossibly fast and hard, barely managing to get his bearings enough to so much as get a hit on Achilles. After just a few seconds of fighting, Achilles got in a good, clean stab right on the side of Zagreus’ arm, slicing all the way through to the bone. Zagreus growled, but other than that, hardly hesitated, raising his spear again. Before he could, Achilles cried, “Hold!”   


Zagreus stopped on command, lowered his spear, and then chuckled. “Tired already, sir?” he asked snidely.

“Ha! Good one,” Achilles growled in response, smiling back, “No, this is part of the training, I’m afraid! This fight was not to the death, or even to the victory - Merely, to the blow.”   


“To the blow, sir? What, you mean this?” Zagreus gestured at his bloodied arm, and smiled, “Sir, I hardly feel it, we can go on, I don’t mind!”   


“No! We will stop for now,” he insisted, and put his spear aside. Zagreus, perplexed, put his weapon back with a slight wince, bringing a hand up to hold his arm, which was drenching his tunic in blood. “Now, we will take a break!”

“A… a break, sir?” asked Zagreus. “I don’t understand. We’ve… only just started!”   


“Have a little faith in me, lad! I warned you it was unorthodox! We will continue in fifteen minutes - Entertain yourself until then,” he commanded. Just like that, after five minutes of training, Achilles donned his cloak and continued back down the hall. 

While he was gone, Zagreus made an effort to ignore his confusion - Achilles usually knew what he was talking about, after all. In the time being, he practiced on the dummies, keeping himself focused. As he lunged forward at the still target, however, he felt a dizzy spill rush over his head, and he missed by a mile, stumbling. Strange… This was a common feeling when in the other layers of Hades, but these were dummies - They hadn’t dealt a single blow. Nevertheless, he began to feel pale, tired, sick. He shook the feeling off and went on, but his accuracy was far worse - The entire right side of his robes were covered in blood.

By the time Achilles returned, Zagreus he was somewhat out of breath - nevertheless, he remained as enthusiastic as he had been. “Ready to pick back up, sir?”

Achilles smiled knowingly, “No, I’m afraid the fighting portion of training is done. More importantly, how are you feeling?”

Zagreus creased his eyebrows. “Erm… fine, sir,” he answered.

“Really?”   


“Well… I suppose I am… a bit dizzy. Tired, I suppose, but I haven’t fought you in a while…”

Achilles shook his head. “No, Zagreus. You’ve been fighting wretches non-stop, it takes more than a five minute to make  _ you  _ tired. I’m afraid your dizziness is because of the wound on your arm.”

Zagreus laughed. “What, the papercut?” 

“I’m afraid that papercut, if given enough time, is a fatal blow,” he said sternly, “You get that on the surface and do nothing about it, cut to the bone like that, you’re sure to be dead by the end of the month.”

“What?!” Zagreus demanded, “But- but that can’t be sir! I could go on fighting all day! So I’ve lost a bit of blood, I’m  _ fine!” _ _   
_

“See, one of the problems with dying all the time, Zagreus, is you’ve never been forced to understand the long term effects of the things you suffer. Right now, the dizziness you’re experiencing is blood loss, and you’ll go on losing blood for some time. That alone could kill you, and if it doesn’t, the wound will become infected. Such an infection is almost certainly lethal, particularly if it goes untreated. But the situation is far from hopeless. Come with me.”

He waved a hand and summoned him to a bench, gesturing for him to sit - Then, he drew something from a cabinet a large wooden chest - The miscellaneous items. He opened it up and pulled out several things which Zagreus did not recognize - Long spans of fabric, little silver hooks. “The gods do not know the purpose of these things, but as they are collected from mortals, I imagine they are loathe to throw them away. It’s good, for the sake of our training, that we keep them,” he said, and then sat beside him. “Now, lad, today we are going to learn how to treat a wound.”

“I see…” Zagreus mused in response, “I suppose one must be a bit more careful on the surface, huh? It never really occurred to me how often I… you know, die.”

“Well, it is the way of gods, I suppose. But on the surface, you will be functionally mortal - One death and you will have to crawl all the way up again. And I can only imagine your father would be more than irritated upon seeing you again. Now,” he withdrew a dark brown glass bottle, corked at the top, and a patch of white cloth. “The first step is to disinfect it - This keeps away the sickness from the wound. This is done with alcohol, as strong as possible. A very important step, particularly if you got the wound in a place of filth. Though I warn you, lad, this step is quite painful.”

“I’m sure I can take it,” Zagreus responded brightly, watching Achilles’ every movement as he put the cloth to the opening of the bottle and poured in a sizeable dose, and then touched it to the place where he was wounded. Sure enough, it stung like acid. He groaned in discomfort, curling his hands into fists on his knees in an effort to keep himself from shoving Achilles away. “This is really helping it?” he asked through his teeth.

“It is the least pleasant step, but the most important by far. You do  _ not  _ want to die of infection - It’s not a pleasant way to go,” Achilles warned heavily. “Now, next step is not always necessary, but for a wound this deep and long, I would recommend it. To stop the blood, you must stitch up the wound.”

Zagreus snorted, when he saw Achilles was serious. “What, really?” he asked.

“Yes, really!” he smiled back, withdrew a hooked needle, and began to thread it. Zagreus still looked amused.

“What, you’re going to sew me up like a shirt?” he asked, “Achilles, if this is some kind of trick on me-”

“It’s no trick, lad! It’s mortal medicine!” he responded firmly, though a matching grin was still on his face, “The skin can’t seal and create scar if it can’t bond with itself. The stitches aid in that process. Now, watch, watch what I do.” Zagreus went serious again as he felt the light pinch of a needle in his arm, watching as Achilles ran the hooked needle through both sides of the cut, and pull it through - Like a shirt. He stared at the scene in utter bewilderment. 

“If I were mortal, would there be thread in me forever?”   


“They fall apart, after a time. Though, I think by my death, I still had some stitches that came from years ago,” he admitted.

“So strange…” Zagreus muttered, shaking his head, “I’m glad you’re helping me. It would have been pretty embarrassing if I made it all the way up there only to get sent back down because I scraped by knee…”

Achilles chuckled. “Well, we all have to learn someday, lad! These are things most mortals learn as children, but when there was no need for me to teach you, I sort of skipped over all those parts. Taught you to fight until you had nothing left - But you’ll have to fight differently if you want to live to see another day. That’s why my task for you is that you are going to go for as long as you can  _ without  _ dying. When you head for the surface, I want you to gauge your health, and when you are too hurt, come back down yourself.”

“Back down my… But - Achilles - don’t I have to give it all I’ve got?”   


“That you do, lad,” he answered, continuing at his stitches, “But that’s easy enough to do when death is no more than a mere inconvenience. If you want to act mortal, you have to … well, perhaps not fear it. But… know its consequences.”

“But if I can die of a little cut like this, sir, I’ll never get anywhere!” he objected, “How am I supposed to get through that place if I turn back after every cut?”   


F inishing the stitches, Achilles patted him on the shoulder. “By learning your limits! You’re tough, and now that you’ve taken care of this, cleaned it, and stopped the bleeding, it won’t do much more to hurt you. You can take a beating, lad, that I know for sure! But you’ll have to learn how much,” he advised. “Now! The final step is to bandage the wound, to keep it safe from the outside world and stop any remaining bleeding. Not too tight, now - That will only damage it worse.” He took out a long white piece of fabric and gingerly began to wind it around Zagreus’ bicep. A slow seam of blood appeared along its white surface. “Now, important to note, lad, is the way to get something to stop bleeding in the short term is to press on it as hard as you can. Counterintuitive, I know. But it’s a life saver.”   


“I see, sir,” Zagreus answered. When his arm was wrapped, he held it up, and evaluated it. How bizarre - He’d  _ never  _ bothered with long-term medical fixes like that. Usually he just waited until he died. Death really was no big deal, nor was the concept of suicide, which he knew to be fairly disturbing for mortals. As a child, he would throw himself onto a spear nearly every time he came down with something as minor as a cold - It was just the easiest way to find a fresh start. 

“Now - As for the next part of your training. Though I fear you’ll hate me for it,” Achilles said amusedly. However, Zagreus smiled.

“You underestimate me, sir! I’ve always taken anything you’ve thrown at me, haven’t I?”   


“You have,” he answered, with a slightly guilty smile, “Nevertheless. I have a feeling you won’t like this. I only want you to try and make it to the surface once per day. You can use this to keep track - Borrowed it from Hypnos.” He drew from his pocket a little sundial that had a golden cap over it that flicked open and closed. Despite the lack of light sources, the shadow went where it would, magically pointing to the accurate time. 

Zagreus deflated, trying to trust Achilles. “But…” he couldn’t help but object, “Just once a day? Sir, a day is twenty four hours! It only takes me about two to get as far as I can through the underworld! Less, if I’m having a good day!” Then, insecurely, he added, “Achilles, did… did father tell you to-”

“ _ No, _ ” he answered sternly, and Zagreus couldn’t help but believe him, “Lad, I know you’re in a rush. But whether you act like a mortal or not, you will live ages longer than I, and I know that you will make it out of here. I  _ want  _ you to make it out of here! But you have to trust that I have your best interests in mind.”

He sighed, disappointed. “Alright, sir. What shall I do in my time away? Train with you, perhaps?”

“No, I’ll mostly be at my work.  _ You  _ will be doing as you see fit.”

This was clearly the worst possible answer. “But… alright. A lesson in patience, is that it? I’ll do it for you, Achilles! But… I admit, you were right, this time. I don’t like this at all.”

He laughed gruffly, and patted his back. “If I’m very lucky, you’ll thank me later,” he said, “Now, if you like, you can take your run for today! Try your hardest not to die - I’ll be keeping track of how long you can go. Once you make it a week with no deaths, I have a particular reward in mind.”

A new determination filled Zagreus’ eyes. “Yes, sir!” he said, “I’ll come right back down when I’ve reached my limit. And then I suppose I’ll… kill some time?”

“There’s a good lad!” he agreed, “Now, I’d better get back to my post before your father picks a fight with me. Best of luck.”

“Thank you, Achilles, sir!” he answered eagerly, and then parted ways with him just outside the hallway. 


	2. The First Two Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his first attempt to make it out and survive, Zagreus overestimates himself and dies on his way back down. The second time, however, he manages to make it back alive, and Achilles finds and helps him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy this one got an itty bitty following! ill take it. i love achilles what can i say

At least, killing time was his plan. Zagreus told himself he’d take his time (nothing else to do when he was done, he dreadingly reminded himself) and be patient with himself, pay attention to his pain, his limitations, his own anatomy. He didn’t know much about mortal anatomy, but he knew that getting stabbed through the torso meant the rupturing of an organ, which was harder to come back from, and, he could only imagine, more miserable to die from. Heart was in the upper right, that one he knew, and if he took a hit there death was pretty likely. Extremities, he thought until recently, were fine. Then again, Achilles’ intricate medical ritual had half-convinced him otherwise. 

But, surrounded by monsters, he hurriedly forgot all that and rushed through with all the passion he could, and lost up in it all he ran through the rooms as fast as he could. He only half noticed the blows as they came, and before each room he would glance down at himself, see blood, and count the new wounds. Soon enough, though, he couldn’t keep track. But he had plenty of boons, he didn’t feel dizzy. He was fine - fine. 

When finally, near the top of Tartarus, he suffered a dizzying blow from a wretched lout and began stumbling through his fighting. When he finished off the room, he caught a hitched breath. He almost never held still while he did this, and he didn’t  _ want  _ to stop, but blood was pouring down into the cracks in the stone, and his legs were going weak. He hated it more than he could say, but he turned around - When his father found out about this, he would have something snide to say for sure. The rooms seemed much longer when they weren’t filled with monsters. When he’d traveled through two rooms, he fell hard against a doorframe. The pain worsened as he waited - Normally, he’d pushed himself to death by now. Death hurt, of course, but this feeling was different. His head was light and nausea overtook him, his muscles refusing to answer his commands. He was shaking violently. He groaned. Just a few more floors.

He made it down one more, before falling to his knees. Come on, this is ridiculous, he told himself. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to be a matter of willpower. He ignored the pain for long enough to crawl a little bit, but after he collapsed he felt that he suddenly weighed too much to get up. He looked back at the long trail of thick blood he’d left. Pathetic, he scorned himself. He should have fought to his last breath! But Achilles knew what was best for him, so for a while, it was his way. Nevertheless, if he remembered right he still had at least five or six more floors before he made it back. He groaned. No way. His vision began to go dark over the image of his shaking hand on the hard stone, and he groaned, “No… come on…” and blood filled up his vision. 

When he came to the mouth of the river he grumbled irritably. The bandage around his arm was still there, but he knew there wasn’t a cut underneath it anymore. So much for all of Achilles’ hard work. 

“Oop, looks like what got you this time was… huh! Blood loss?” asked Hypnos, “Don’t your deaths tend to be a little more, um, violent?”

“Usually,” he sighed, “But I’m trying to curb that. Hopefully you’ll be seeing a lot less of me - I’m going the mortal route and trying not to die at all.”   


“Ha! Good luck with that!” Hypnos said sweetly. Zagreus considered chiding him before remembering he was probably cluelessly genuine, as usual. “Well, here’s the thing about bleeding out: What you really want to do is, um… well, stop bleeding! You can control that sort of thing, can’t you?”

“Not… that I’m aware,” he grumbled, and ambled away from him. He grimaced - Time to tell Achilles how flagrantly he failed. He approached him slowly, like a child who’d been writing on the walls. When Achilles saw him, he smiled. 

“That was fast,” he said gently.

Zagreus smiled sheepishly, and rubbed his arm. “I’m… sorry, sir,” he said, “I did turn back! I suppose, at that point, I was a little too far gone… I died while I was climbing back down.”

“Ah well, you’ll get it! When you’re next up there, make sure to focus on yourself. Even when you’re not in battle, it’s a good idea to monitor how you are - What hurts, what feels wrong, and all that. Anything internal should be treated as more urgent - A sharp pain of the innards almost always means you ought to turn back.”

He nodded obediently. “I understand, sir. Though, I can’t help but feel that I would improve faster if I were allowed to just take one more quick run upstairs? I was really very close to making it, if I just had another go-”

“No, Zagreus, you’re to stay down here and wait for tomorrow if you know what’s good for you,” he insisted gently. 

“Sir, I- Is it alright to ask you why?”   


“You could. But if I’m afraid if I told you now, you wouldn’t understand. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Zagreus sighed at the disappointing answer. “Yes, sir…” he groused, and paced back towards his room. 

His father growled from over his desk: “Off towards another futile escape, is that it, boy? Will you never learn?”   


“I-!” Zagreus began, and then stopped. No, he wasn’t. He was going to his room, to do nothing. Gods, this felt terrible. Instead of saying something else he kept his head down and pressed his anger down, hurrying off to the lounge. He heard his father laugh at him behind him, and he boiled with rage.  _ Achilles, I really hope you know what’s best for me, _ he thought.

Spending a whole day without leaving the house lead Zagreus to remember how long it had been since he’d done just that. He only decided firmly that he wanted to leave and see his mother recently, but he’d been sneaking out to fight monsters, look for trinkets, and piss off his father for as long as he could remember. He’d gone off to fight every day for years and years - How long had it been since he’d just been in the house? Long enough that he didn’t remember how it was done. He began with a meal at the lounge, trying his best to maintain something of a conversation with the overly timid chef, before he moved along to his room to try and find something to do there. He owned a handful of books, all of them impossibly dull historical texts that his father let him have, and staring at the ceiling was only entertaining for so long. For a while he listened to Orpheus play, sitting there for several rotations of the same song, sitting hidden behind his doorframe and trying to learn the notes, and remember all the lyrics. He knew the song by heart after about five runs, and the boredom was unbelievable. He checked the sundial Achilles gave him and groaned - how had it only been  _ two hours? _

Beginning to get desperate, Zagreus wandered about the house, eyes darting from person to person. He couldn’t beg Achilles to let up, that was pathetic… But most people in here weren’t terribly social. Hypnos! He always has a positive attitude, he thought. Plus, he was always begging people to hang out with him. Maybe he’d need a hand, or even just some company? He hurried up to him, startling him awake.

“Hi, Hypnos!” he greeted brightly, with a wave.

“Mnuh…?” he muttered sleepily. “Oh! Zagreus! Well, let me see what got you this time-”

Before he could check his chart Zagreus corrected him, “Oh, I… didn’t die! I was just… saying hello! I had a little free time, so, I was wondering if you needed a hand with anything? I know my dad gives you a lot of work.”

Hypnos looked thoroughly delighted by the offer. “Aww, Zagreus! That is  _ so  _ sweet of you to offer me, thank you! But, um, I actually work a lot better alone? Don’t take it personally or anything, but, you know, I make up my list and I have to do everything in order and make sure it gets finished all the way and if two of us did it at the same time I wouldn’t know what gets done or what to cross off, which really throws me off after a while! Ask Thanatos, I’m really not a team player!  _ So  _ sweet of you to offer, though!”   


Zagreus shrunk slightly, working to hide his disappointment. “Oh… well, erm, alright. Well, if you ever… need anything, feel free to ask.”   


“I will! Though, it is odd, Zagreus! You haven’t tried to escape in  _ several hours  _ now! Run into some kind of roadblock?”   


“I wish,” he grumbled, “It’s part of this training thing I’m doing with Achilles. I can only go once every day.”   


“Hm. That’s weird! Then again, maybe it’s not such a bad thing! I’m a little busy now, but since you have more free time, I’d love to pop down to the lounge with you sometime. If… you’re interested, you know?”   


Zagreus smiled warmly. “That sounds lovely, Hypnos! I’d be happy to!” he said.

“Great! I can’t wait!” He cast him another brilliant smile, hovering an inch or two upwards, before returning to his list and beginning to scribble things down, once again just engrossed enough in his work to keep himself awake. Zagreus watched him for a moment longer, before proceeding down the hall. 

Finally, he found himself headed to the training area. He fought some dummies for a while, but he found that after trying all the moves he knew he was bored again. As he was about to leave, he spotted the miscellaneous chest. Right, his training. That was something to do. He withdrew the medical materials, the thread and the needle, pleased to see that, from all that they’d collected from various dead doctors, there was plenty to use for some time. He sat down, placed the sword he’d been using beside him. Then, he withdrew it, lifted it, and with a skip of his heart he drew a line of blood along the back of his arm. He tensed, pain shooting all the way up him, but he didn’t cry out. Instead, he let out a long, calm sigh. It stung brutally, and yet, he found that the unease that possessed him began to ebb. It was… soothing?

He lifted the alcohol, dabbed it onto the cloth, and rubbed the blood away, pressing down. This made him wince, the stinging ran all the way through him, but at least he knew, when the bleeding stopped, he seemed to have done it right. He lifted the hooked needle, threaded it cleanly, and began to sew the cut closed, like Achilles taught him. It was messy, and hurt more than when he did it, but oddly enough, he didn’t mind. It made the time pass faster, made the world quieter. He breathed slowly in and out to keep his muscle loose enough to work, in, out, one-two pull, one-two pull, one-two pull. By the time he’d carefully done this all across his arms in tiny little one-inch cuts he had passed several hours, and in a way that actually seemed to move pretty quickly. Still about 19 hours to go, but he didn’t feel quite such dread around it anymore.

For the rest of the time, he managed to sleep away half of it, and spent some time in the lounge and in the gardens until,  _ finally,  _ the time came that he could go again. Excitement filled his body as he watched the little sundial make the last few creeping movements towards the place it was when he last went - right at the top. The moment it was he leapt up out of his seat and bolted for his spear. 

Zagreus made it all the way to the door to fight with Megeara. By the time he approached it, a deep excitement and determination drove him to rush in, but he stopped. He shut his eyes, and did what he did between every room. Just like Achilles said: How am I? Slices all over his arms were bleeding heavily, and he was thoroughly dizzy from that. There was a hole in his gut, a spear that ran him nearly all the way through, and the sickness hadn’t parted. It just now occurred to him that he’d been tasting blood for the past six rooms, and as he stopped for a moment, he coughed softly, to see blood along his lips. He winced - Something broken inside. Achilles said that meant it was time to turn back…

He looked longingly at the door one last time, before forcing himself to turn his back. And the walk down was a long, long way down. He left a trail of blood, and lacking it made him pale and stiff, and he was stumbling like a drunk by the time he neared the door back to his home. Embarrassment followed closely behind the pain - He hoped the gods weren’t watching this too closely. When he finally made it back to where he fell from, he looked around. Damn - It was easy to forget when he went through with this that the door was 20 feet up. He stepped back, took a breath, and ran at the wall as fast as he could - His hot footprints brought him far enough up the wall that he caught the bottom of the door. Ugh, moving that fast made him feel sick. He clutched his gut, where blood continued to drip out of him. Nevertheless, with a grunt he managed to get his other arm up and slowly, painfully, haul himself up into the doorway.

“Whoa, boyo!” he heard a voice. He looked up from where he was half-collapsed to see Skelly, where he always stood up. “You look terrible! Hey, since when did you come home with the backdoor anyway, huh?”   


He went to answer and said something slurred, his vision going momentarily black. No! He would survive this time, he was sure of it. “I’ll… be fine. Would you… do me a f-favor, Skelly?”   


“Sure, boyo, what you need?”

“Get… erm, get Achilles, for me…?”

“You got it!” he said, and sprung off. 

Zagreus pressed his back against the wall and caught his breath. He tried, for a moment, to stand, but the spinning of his head told him that would only kill him faster. He was shaking head to toe - He’d died enough times to know he was close to the edge. “Okay,” he whispered, “Press on the wound to stop the bleeding…” He looked down at himself. He was nothing  _ but  _ wounds. Which one was he supposed to do first?! He picked the hole in his abdomen (torso stuff was worse, right?) and pressed down on it until he groaned, and blood colored his teeth. After a few seconds of that, though, as Achilles said, the bleeding began to slow. “Ow…” he groaned. At this point, he was half-hoping for death just so he could have an easy fresh start. 

“Lad! You made it back!” he heard, and Achilles stepped in. The pride in his voice made all the agony melt away, just for a moment. Zagreus laughed, spitting blood.

“Barely,” he said, “I… I did my best, Achilles, but… I don’t think I’ll be able to… p-pull through this time.”

“Oh, nonsense, I’ve seen weaker men survive more grievous injury!” he said enthusiastically. “Lie still, I’ll take care of you.”

At these words, Zagreus calmed, and obeyed, lying flat on his back. Achilles spread out a variety of medical equipment and went to work. In a low voice he went logically through each thing he did, holding it up and showing it to him before he proceeded. The alcohol and the stitches stung, and yet, as he grew accustomed to it all, Zagreus was calmed. He shut his eyes and felt his head spin from time to time, only to be awoken by a rough shove from Achilles, and a reminder to stay awake. He breathed slowly, feeling where his hands worked, carefully and lovingly. He couldn’t recall a time he’d been treated with such care before.

Then, Achilles took on a look of confusion. “What are these cuts here, lad? Looks like you’ve already stitched them up.”

Zagreus looked down at his arm. “Oh, right, those. Well, sir, I didn’t have much to do yesterday so I figured I would get some practice in on that training you taught me!”   


Achilles shot him a look of stoic concern, before returning to his work. “You’ll have plenty of time to practice on the injuries you get  _ elsewhere.  _ If you were mortal, you’d only get one body, like the rest of us. It’s not wise to cut it up because you’re bored. No more of that, alright?”   


“I… yes, sir, I understand,” he answered. Then he coughed, and through a bloody smile, said, “I hope I’m not putting you out,” and stared up at the ceiling. 

“Oh, no, far from it. I wouldn’t have sent you out there and told you to come back if I hadn’t known you’d come back battered. I’m glad to see you made it back, lad! It takes wisdom to turn back when you feel you could go on.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, “Do you really think I can live through this? What about the… long term effects you mentioned? I’ve never had a scar before.”

Achilles laughed lightly. “You know, there are times I forget just how naïve you are,” he said, “For a man who’s died a thousand times, you know very little about the world and how it works.”

“Well. That’s part of the reason I want to make it out. Maybe I can learn a thing or two…” then, he turned his head to stare off along the ground. 

“I’m sure you will, lad,” he promised him coolly, “And to answer your question, I think you can survive it. You  _ are  _ more god than man - I’d be interested to see how fast you heal. That, to be frank with you lad, is part of the reason I’m only letting you try to go once. You’ll need to regain your strength.”

“Then, why did I have to say yesterday? I wasn’t hurt.”

“I said it was part of the reason, lad. Not the reason itself,” he said with a smile. Then, he leaned back. “Now, sit up slow.” He took Zagreus’ arm and helped him, as he groaned and sat back up. His head spun again, and he put a hand to it. “There, see, good as new!” he said, “Well done, lad! The walk back is seldom easy - Some have argued it’s harder than the battle itself.”

He laughed gently, “Thank you, sir,” he said. 

Achilles nodded, then patted his legs. “I ought to get back to my post. You should be able to make it to your room. Don’t move too quickly.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you again. I feel… much better now.”

He stood. “I’m glad. I’ll be seeing you - keep up the effort.” 

As he turned and left, Zagreus took a long, full breath, and then carefully stood, wavering on his feet for a moment, before stumbling his way back into his room. 


End file.
